I have fallen in love with you,
I have known for a while, it is no surprise.
I love your honesty, your vulnerability
I love that you trust me.
I love your beauty.
I fear that by my admission of love, we will change.
I fear you will feel compelled to become someone other than who you are
If I disclose my love, you must promise me only one thing.
To remain vigilant, not to begin those small shifts to become who you think I want you should be
No, I want none of that.
I do want to hold you. To smell your hair.
I want to feel your lips on mine. I want to taste you.
I want to sit in a small café, on a busy Paris street and drink a glass of wine with you.
I want you to understand, what we have right now is perfection
I love how I feel when I see you.
It warms me to see your smiles.
My need for honesty compels me to tell you how I feel.
My fear is that will scare you.
It is how I feel.
To keep that a secret would mean I am not true to myself.
My silence will diminish you as well.
This admission comes with no caveat.
Let my words do nothing more than lightly caress your soul, and,
perhaps, your heart.